Friday

Oh, Fria's day has come at last,
The weekend shortly will be past,
Tomorrow's light will come too soon
And wake me at the crack of Noon.

Portents of work that must be done
Cause wishes for the rain, not sun,
Lord knows, the grass could use some rain
To grow before I cut again.

But mostly, Friday's mean to me
Some silliness, frivolity,
Some stupid poem or Trip Report,
A silly joke, a quick retort.

Such things prepare me for the end
Of days of Work where I did spend
My hours, sitting 'pon my duff.
Boy, guv'mint work is really rough.    :)